


Corrupt

by AlmightyHail



Series: Corruption [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Supernatural
Genre: 5naf, Children, Comedy, Dean - Freeform, Drama, Fun, Graphic, Horror, Robots, SPN - Freeform, Sam - Freeform, Scary, Supernatural - Freeform, Suspense, Tumblr, abandon, cursing, demon, fnaf - Freeform, game, ghost - Freeform, pizzeria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmightyHail/pseuds/AlmightyHail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean go on another hunt; this time to a place supposedly abandoned, where two boys have gone missing. Everything is dirty, from the building itself to the secrets inside it, and not a single layer is clean-cut. These aren't just mysteries they're solving, it's crimes. One thing continues to lead to another, and when they find one answer, five other questions are made. When the Winchesters finally get to the bottom...the job is less than halfway done. </p><p>Expect the typical Supernatural episode cliches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last One Out, Get The Lights

The midnight sky was dark, not a star visible. Orange lights shone on the ground from street lamps above, illuminating an empty parking lot. Not a single person was in sight, the building's foundation cracked and the walls vandalized. In the shadows in front of the doors, three boys stood around, shrouded from sight.  
Hakks worked at the lock of the front door, his greasy black hair falling into his face. He shrugged his head to the side, fiddling with his 'unlocking kit' which consisted of two paperclips bent at the ends to push the lock in and get it open. He'd done it several times before, one things from lockers to car doors, and now he had to use his skill to open up the front doors of the abandoned restaurant. Unfortuntely, he didn't seem to be doing his job fast enough, as one of his "co-workers" began to snap at him.  
  
"Hurry it up, jackass!" Biggy King cursed at him. The ebony-skinned male was tall and lanky, with pouty lips and a scarred lower jaw. Next to him stood Rawk, with a buzzcut and red cheeks. All of them wore generic gray jackets with the word "BALLBUSTAS" scribbled in black sharpie across the back.   
  
"Shut up, I'm working on it!" Hakks spat. He tilted his wrists to try and maneuver the lockpicker, but was shoved aside.   
  
"Move it, shrimp," Biggy King snarled. "Let someone else do it, you fucking suck."  
  
"Suck a dick, fucker!" Hakks retorted. "No one else can do this shit, so shut up and let me do it!"   
  
"I'm not gonna sit here and pull my cock just to watch you fuck up that lock for a goddamn year!" Biggy King shouted. Rawk snickered.   
  
"I'm almost done, just let me try," Hakks said, going back to the lock. He shoved the lockpick and wrenched upwards, and heard a click. He tugged on the door handle to test the doors. The door opened soundlessly. Hakks used his foot to hold the door open and grabbed the paperclips, putting them in his jacket pocket.   
  
"Come on," Hakks whispered, opening the door for the others. "Let's get this shit done so no one sees."  
  
Biggy King scoffed. "No one gives a fuck about this place, it's shit city here," he said. "Freddy Fuckbear's Pizzeria's been dead for goddamn ever."   
  
"Yeah, but we don't know if they've moved anything," Hakks said.   
  
Rawk snorted. "What, you think some guy is just gonna come in here and take stuff? No one's been in here since November."  
  
"Um, isn't that what we're doing?" Hakks asked.   
  
Rawk grinned. "No, we're doing house cleaning," he replied with a mischievous snicker.   
  
As the boys filed in through the door, they pulled out pocket-sized flashlights and flicked them on. Inside the building, tables were crookedly lined up, covered in dust. The floor's checkered tile was dusty, cracked and in some places, covered in smelly fluids. Cracks snaked up the walls, and holes followed along the edge of the arcade's outer wall. In the crook of the doorway, mold had begun to grow. Hakks gasped as he heard something scurry across the floor by his feet and watched as a black rat zipped across the floor and disappeared behind a large chewed-out hole in the side of a door. The lights overhead were filled with bugs, dead and alive. A raccoon hissed at them from under a table, then dove for cover behind a curtain. The edges of the tables had been chewed off. On one side of the building, where Hakks guessed was a sewage line, water flowed down and onto the ground. Animal droppings could be seen in several places. As Hakks closed the door, the sight of a spider on the handle made him draw his hand back sharply.  
  
"This place is disgusting," Rawk commented.   
  
Hakks couldn't agree more. The stench of mold, rotten food, rust and God knows what else stained the air and made him gag. He pulled his shirt over his nose to save his nostrils.   
  
"Yo, check out the freakshow up front," Biggy King pointed to the three animatronics onstage. They were discolored, their joints turned in rather awkward angles and the creases of their eyes, mouths and joints oozing a dark liquid. Their eyes were glassy, faded and turned to look to the ground. The rabbit's guitar lay at his feet and the bird's beak hung loosely, as if her face was limp. The bear, noticeably, seemed to have no eyes at all.  
  
"Fucking gross," Rawk said. Hakks couldn't agree more. They looked filthy, and rather unsettling, with their eyes all dead staring and framed by black lines.   
  
"Can't believe a kid ever liked those things," Hakks said.   
  
"We ain't here for them anyway," Biggy King said. "Come on, our shit's in the arcade. Find something good. Get the copper out of the machines. People love that shit."  
  
The three of them headed for the arcade to their left. Hakks heard a faint screech, like the sound of metal scraping metal, and froze, looking at the animatronics. They hadn't moved, but damn, were they spooky. Hurriedly he rushed into the arcade, where they couldn't be seen. Inside the arcade, old games were wrapped in tarps, assumingly to preserve the screens, or whatever the hell they were for, Hakks thought. He glanced over his shoulder for a split second to make sure nothing had moved, an action Rawk saw.   
  
"What, you scared, shrimp?" Rawk mocked. "Run to your mom, then, you pussy."   
  
"I'm not scared!" Hakks protested. "I was just making sure we closed the door."  
  
"Whatever," Rawk scoffed. He grabbed one of the tarps and pulled it off. Underneath lay a game Hakks didn't know, but he didn't waste time thinking on it. He walked away as Rawk began to use a screwdriver to open up the back of the machine and get to the wiring inside.  
  
Hakks moved to the other side, ripping off one of the tarps. An old Force Fighters lay underneath. He had no idea what that was. Bending down, he pulled a screwdriver from his pocket and began undoing the screws. When he reached the fourth one, he heard a low laughter echoing.   
  
"Guys...I think someone's-"  
  
"Yo, guys, I found some!" Biggy King shouted to them. Rawk and Hakks raced over. They leaned in close, pointing their tiny flashlights at Biggy King's hand. The boy was holding long wires and bars of copper, slightly rusted but still usable.  
  
"Bitches will pay big for this shit!" Biggy King said in excitement. In all honesty, Hakks had no idea why, of all places to find things to steal and sell for a profit, Biggy King had chosen an abandoned arcade. It wasn't particularly a gold mine, but he figured no one would think anything of stuff being stolen from an abandoned arcade that had a shitty reputation.   
  
A soft music began to play, like the sound of a music box. The boys turned, looking around for the source of the sound.  
  
"The hell is that?" Rawk asked.   
  
"One of the games must be fucking up," Biggy King grumbled. It didn't make Hakks feel any better. He knew something was wrong, he just knew it. He wasn't known for making good decisions but he knew, from his gut, when something was seriously fucked up.  
  
"I don't think we should be in here," Hakks warned.  
  
"Shut up," Rawk scolded. "Don't be such a pussy, man."  
  
"No, I'm serious, something is not right," he insisted.   
  
"No one gives a fuck if you're scared," Biggy King sighed.   
  
"I'll go see what it is," Rawk told the others. "Maybe it'll shut little pussy face over there up."   
  
His small light in his hand, Rawk headed for the entryway to the arcade. The music continued to play, changing in volume. He flashed his light side-to-side, looking for the source. Even though it was getting louder, he couldn't seem to figure out where it was coming from. He checked each arcade game, but none of them seemed to be on. He looked around the entrance of the arcade, but besides the sight of a rat inside its hole, he saw nothing. Suddenly the music stopped, as if the track had ended, and Rawk smirked. He turned around and looked to the other boys.   
  
"See? It stopped."   
  
His light flickered and died, and Rawk cursed, shaking it in his hand.   
  
"Piece of shit," he muttered. He heard a whirring sound and swiveled on his heels. He didn't see anything, just the darkness ahead, and what looked like the reflection of Hakks' and Biggy King's lights on something above him. What were they reflecting off of? There was nothing up there. Rawk tilted his head up, looking closer to where the lights were being reflected, and when he leaned up, noticed the reflections weren't on just one surface, they were on two. He realized he wasn't looking at a reflection at all - he was looking at two large black eyes, staring back at him.   
  
Rawk yelled in surprise, stepping back. A powerful hand gripped his arm, wrenching him forward and snapping the bone in his wrist. Rawk cried out in pain and terror, and the other boys turned their lights to see the face of a large bear, eyes blacked out, with its teeth white as bone, snarling at Rawk's face.   
  
"HOLY SHIT!" Biggy King screamed.   
  
The bear looked their way, and Hakks watched, with a sickening drop of his stomach, as Rawk was pulled like a doll away with the bear to the blackness in front of them.   
  
"We gotta get the fuck outta here!" Biggy King said. He stood and sprinted towards the doors.   
  
"But Rawk-"  
  
"Rawk's fucking dead! I'm leaving your ass behind, man, fuck this!"   
  
Hakks charged forward, nearly colliding with the face of the animatronic bird. The chicken screeched at him, eyes white and beak wide open, her teeth flashing in his light. The boy dove under and ran forward, blindly stomping towards the entrance. He had to get out of this place, if it was the last thing he did. No way in hell was he going to die here.   
  
Hakks followed after Biggy King's shadow, his light only flashing across the other male's back. He was within a few feet of the door before two giant arms reached out and ripped Biggy King out of sight. The last sound Hakks heard of the other boy was his shrill scream of terror as he was dragged away into the darkness of the pizzeria, to whatever nightmare the metal exoskeletons were going to put him through.   
  
There were others. Three of them, at least, and he was outnumbered. If Biggy King couldn't make it to the door, he sure as hell won't. Hakks made a sharp right turn, running at full speed. Something swiped past his head and he yelped, ducking instinctively and covering his head in his hands. The nearest corner his light shone on he dove for, finding himself in the doorway of one of the bathrooms. He clicked his flashlight off to keep from being seen...but now he was blind. Hiding in the nearest doorway, he covered his mouth, trying to keep himself from panting or crying. The only sound that alerted him to the location of the animatronics were the sounds of their whirring and creaking joints. They were looking for him, he knew it. He could hear their footsteps, the distant "dum dum dum" of one of them singing. Fuck, he was terrified. Why the hell did he let Biggy King talk him into this? This was not worth the few hundred bucks they might've earned from stealing a bunch of wires from some old arcade machines.  
  
The sound of a whirring gear next to his ear made him start, and he dove, almost colliding with another wall. He used his hand and placed it along the wall, using it as a guide of where he was going as he ran for his life. Stomping could be heard chasing after him, louder each time. The monster was right on his heels, scraping his shoes when he turned a corner. There was the door!   
  
~~**"NOITAERCFOYOJEHTGNIRBIWONKLLIWYEHT"**~~  
  
SHIT! The voice was low and warped, like a bad recording, but so close that it felt like it was whispered directly into his ears. Hakks screamed as he pushed the door, jumping onto the concrete just beyond the threshold. He turned around, eyes wide and ready to see the monster coming outside after him. Instead, all he could see were two beady eyes, glaring at him from inside the pizzeria. They vanished as he blinked, as if they were never there.   
Hakks jumped to his feet and ran as far as he could away from the haunted building, never stopping, everything a blur and unrecognizable. Anywhere he looked he saw those black eyes, heard that voice, and that laughter, and the sound of the robot's footsteps behind him kept him going for miles. He didn't rest until he was in a location well lit, under the bright lights of a park. He collapsed against a park bench, heaving for breath. His heart beat so hard that the blood vessels in his eyes could be seen faintly pulsing around his vision. All he could see were those eyes...those dead eyes, those black eyes...  
He couldn't move. Anywhere he couldn't see, there would be a monster, one of those freaks. He could see it in his vision, clouding out everything else, those black eyes consuming him, swallowing him up and torturing him inside darkness and all the terror he had been exposed to. The voice spoke in his ears, the giant bear's hands clawing at his mind and gripping his wrists, pulling him into those eyes...No! NO! _**NO!**_  
  
"Sir, are you okay?"  
  
 _"GET AWAY FROM ME!"_   
  
Hakks didn't realize until he was being shaken that someone was asking him if he was okay. Hakks opened his eyes. He was laying in the fetal position on the ground in front of the bench. His face was wet from tears, his voice hoarse from screaming, he assumed. The sun had risen, the area illuminated by the soft light of early morning. People were walking around, jogging down the paths, or driving down the street in bug-like vehicles. A man in a jogging outfit was staring at him in concern.   
  
"Is something wrong?" the man asked. "You look like you had a bad nightmare. Where are your parents?"  
  
Hakks looked to the man, eyes bloodshot from tears. He was alive...but he didn't feel alive. His mind was still in that pizzeria, running for his life, terrified and counting on every second not to die.   
  
"Do I need to call somebody?" the man asked, bringing him back. Hakks nodded.   
  
"Yes...yes," he said. "Yes, please. Call the cops."  
  
The man nodded, pulling out his iPhone. Hakks sat up, holding his arms over his stomach. He felt nauseated...maybe all of this was just a bad dose of acid...maybe none of this was real...God he hoped so...  
The man handed him the phone, and Hakks spoke into it.   
  
"Hello?" his voice shook.   
  
"This is 911, what is your emergency?"  
  
Hakks didn't know where to begin. If all of this really was real...where was Biggy King? And Rawk?  
  
He swallowed to ease his dry throat. "I...And...They...there was...a break in..."  
  
"Where are you located?" the woman asked on the other line.  
  
"I uh...I'm actually not there," he said. "But it was at...the pizzeria...over on...uh..."  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Uh, no," he said, "I mean, yeah, I...but my friends, they're...I think they're dead..."  
  
"We are sending medical personnel to your locati-"  
  
"No! No, they're not here! They're in the pizzeria, you need to help them!"   
  
"Sir, we're sending help, please take deep breaths, your friends will get help."  
  
Hakks nodded. "Okay...okay."  
  
"Stay where you are, we're sending people to help."  
  
Hakks was shaking. He could barely hold the phone. He probably looked like shit. He probably sounded like shit, too. "Thanks," he mumbled. He handed the phone to the man, who took it and sat beside him. By now, two others had shown up.   
  
"What happened?" one of the newcomers asked.   
  
"I think he had a bad dose," the man said. Hakks hoped he was right...  
  
Hakks desperately hoped...


	2. Getting Away With Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters show up to investigate the mysterious murder of two boys. Things get weird, which they usually expect it to. They just didn't expect it to get THIS weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive spelling errors, please.   
> This will develop slowly, sorry about that. I'm planning things out as we go along, but most of the mysteries and suspense have been mapped. 
> 
> Warning: Graphic gore depicted.

It didn't take much to catch Sam's eyes. He was always looking for new cases, whether they were possibly supernatural or not. He always looked for the same few reoccurring events, however: Mysterious disappearances, haunted locations, disappearing and reappearing people or objects, reports of spontaneous events, or even murders with no known suspect or explanation.

 

On a cold, wintery morning, with a warm mug of tea beside him, Sam scrolled through the latest news reports of the past few days for local towns. One appeared especially peculiar, which read as follows:

 

 _ **YOUNG SCHOOL BOYS MURDERED IN ABANDONED PIZZERIA**_  
  
 _At 6:39 AM a boy who goes by the name "Hakks" called 911 reporting his friends missing. The police investigated the location and found the bodies of the boy's friends, which were mutilated and stuffed into the suits of animatronic animals. Their identities were later given by Hakks, which police have yet to release. The boys were searching the abandoned pizzeria in search of copper and other valuables when the boys were attacked by unknown assailants, who took both of Hakks' friends. The identities of the assailants has yet to be found. Police have arrested Hakks on charges of breaking and entering and possession of stolen property. Last November, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria was shut down due to poor maintenance, endangerment and underpayment of employees, numerous health code violations and several missing persons reports that involved the pizzeria._   
  
Sam stared at his screen, reading the article several times. At a brief glance, it would've seemed like an unfortunate ending for a couple of delinquents who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but with the missing persons reports, and the evidence of children being stuffed into animatronic suits, there was definitely more to this case. There was no way a young kid could stuff someone into an animatronic suit that easily, and who was in the pizzeria before they were? Homeless people didn't seem like a good explanation. The window for this investigation was small but it was worth a shot.   
  
Sam heard his older brother walk out of the bathroom of the small motel, and the long-haired man turned to his brother.   
"Dean, I think we've got another case," he said.   
  
His brother stepped into the room, pulling on his denim jacket. "Alright, what are we looking at?"  
  
Sam looked to the screen. "A couple of boys were mysteriously murdered in a pizzeria. Their friend, who goes by the name of...Hakks...said that when they broke into the pizzeria, they were attacked, and when the police investigated the place, they found their bodies stuffed into animatronic suits, mutilated and unidentifiable."   
  
His brother paused. "Wait," he said, with a confused and almost incredulous face. "Hakks? He goes by Hakks? What is this, some nerd kid trying to be cool and join a gang?"   
  
Sam shrugged with a raise of his brows. "Don't know. But get this. The pizzeria's been shut down since November of last year. Those boys were murdered in the middle of the night. And the pizzeria's been known for having people go missing while working there."   
  
His brother looked over. It could be seen from his green eyes how his interest was piqued, like a cat staring at its prey. "So why were there people in the pizzeria if it's abandoned? Where did the missing people go?"  
  
"Exactly," Sam said.   
  
His brother rubbed his chin. "I say we go investigate. See if anything not-so-human is walking around in there."   
  
Sam nodded, closing the lid of his computer. He stood up from the small desk of the motel and moved to the bedroom to grab his things. At the last second, he turned. "Dean," he said. "Do you think the kid might've murdered his friends?"  
  
"Well, we're gonna find out when we ask him," Dean responded, grabbing his black tote bag. "Get yourself suited up, we're going to be in that investigation from the inside."   
  
  
\-----  
  


When the Winchester brothers finally arrived at the scene in the pizzeria, they weren't surprised by how filthy and rundown the place was. Their black suits stood out from the crowd of light blue shirts and black pants. A short, stout man walked up to them, his throat hanging down like a rooster's gullet. 

"You two the owners of this wreck?" the man asked.   
"Uh, no, we're actually with the FBI," Dean said. He pulled out his FBI ID - fake, but easily mistaken to be real - and then put it back in his jacket pocket. "This is Rogers, I'm Barnes," he pointed to his brother and then himself.   
"The FBI? The hell does the FBI want with this case?" the man asked, skeptical.

Dean acted casual, swaying on his posture. Sam, as well, acted casual, but with a more cautious appearance, as if to make himself less intimidating. Being 6 foot 4 inches, that was a bit difficult to do.   
"We're here to investigate the murders," Dean explained. "Since the murderers can't be identified, they sent us down to help find out who it was."  
The man snorted. "What, the feds think we're too lousy to solve it? Tell them we don't need their agents."

Dean looked around. "Yes, because you're going to find the evidence in a pigsty like this," he said sarcastically.

The man didn't need another hint. He sighed and nodded. "Alright, go take a look around. The bodies are in the back room. I'll warn ya, the bodies are pretty...nasty lookin'."   
Dean smiled smally. "Don't worry, we've probably seen worse." He walked off, leaving the man to shake his head. Sam and Dean walked into the back room, following the line of yellow and black tape to where the bodies were. When they walked into the backroom, they were immediately hit with the stench of blood, rot and old metal. Dean didn't bother making a comment on the stench, even though he wanted to. But the sight in front of him made him change his mind. 

Before them, two investigators with soft brushes padded the tables of the back room for fingerprints. Around the room, on racks and shelves, were old parts of what they assumed were costumes and replacement parts for the animatronics. In the dead center, sitting on the steel metal table in a somewhat dilapidated position, were two suits, covered in blood and leaking out of the holes of the suit where the joints were exposed. The eyes of the boys had popped out of their sockets, now sticking out of the eye holes of the face of the suit. The broken jaws and teeth of the teenagers were laying inside the suit's mouth, and Dean could faintly see an arm bone, snapped like a twig, sticking out of the wrist joint of the suit on the left. 

"That is disgusting," Dean said. Sam looked the suits over with furrowed brows, the appearance he often made when faced with a victim's suffering. This, however, was in sympathy for the victims' pain in their final moments. The grueling torture they must've been put through...  
"So...the murderer just shoved them into the suits and left the bodies behind?" Dean asked.   
"I wouldn't think that's a very good strategy to hide a body," Sam commented. 

Dean looked the bodies over, thoughtful. "Maybe he wasn't trying to hide them," he said. That made a stone plummet inside Sam's stomach. If the killer wasn't trying to hide the bodies, he might have been intentionally stuffing the boys into the suits, meaning they might've been alive during it. Not only that...but the murderer wanted them to suffer, otherwise he would've killed them first before stuffing them. A murderer didn't simply kill his victims on the spot if he wanted them to suffer. And a murderer definitely wouldn't have gone through the effort of stuffing their bodies into suits if he knew they'd be obvious evidence, or if he wanted to kill his victims quickly. 

Dean shook his head, breaking Sam's train of thought. "Whoever it is...he is one sick son of a bitch," the older brother commented. Sam couldn't deny that statement.   
"We found spots of the victims' blood out here," a woman said, her head peeking from outside the door. Sam and Dean turned, following the woman out of the back room. She led them and the other detectives down the building's main room - where the parties would've been held had the pizzeria been open - and up to the stage.   
  
"How would the blood end up here?" Dean asked rhetorically. The woman answered him anyway.   
"We found blood stains on the animatronics before, a couple years back when a security guard went missing," she told them. "The appearance of a possible fight could be seen on the bear, with hand prints on the bear's face, chest and arms. The rabbit also had the same hand prints, on its shoulders and eye."   
"So wait, the _animatronics_ , the robot furries, were the ones with hand prints on them? Bloody hand prints?" Dean asked. 

The woman nodded. "Surprisingly, yes. But when we checked the security footage, it was all dead. Nothing was on the screens, there was no feed. But when we checked the cameras that day, they worked just fine."   
"Did anyone check the animatronics themselves?" Sam asked.   
"Yes but there was no evidence they could have done it. The robots are shut down overnight, that's what the owners reported. Without security footage, we can't blame the machines. Not to mention, when they _are_ turned on, they don't move around. They never step off the stage."  
"And did they check any of the footage from previous nights?" Dean asked.   
The woman shook her head slowly. "No, why would we do that?" 

Figures.   
"We'll take it from here, thank you for the brief," Sam told her kindly. The woman nodded and left, and Sam and Dean watched her, checking the area for witnesses. Once the coast was clear, they turned back to the large machine animals.   
"How could any child look at that and think it's cute?" Dean asked, indicating to the duck-looking robot. "It's freaking creepy."   
Sam didn't answer. He pulled out his EMF reader from his pocket, turning it on. He swiped the reader over the bear's body, and was surprised by how loud the EMF reader screeched. He quickly put it away before anyone noticed. 

"How bad was it?" Dean asked.   
"230," Sam responded, his jaw firm. He looked to Dean, who returned the look. Both of them knew from a reading that high, the machine - the bear at least - was heavily charged with electromagnetic energy, which practically screamed 'possessed' to them.   
"Now it makes sense why they had the bloody handprints," Dean said. He inspected the creatures closer, looking for any sign of demonic markings or hex bags that might've been stuffed inside somewhere.   
"Yes but...if the robots can't move, how could they have murdered the security guard, or the kids?" the younger brother asked, questioning. 

Dean shrugged. "Probably with their fists." He was done looking them over. The stench of blood, old machinery and God knows what else was making his stomach turn. "Come on, we need to find out who made these things."   
Sam nodded, ignoring Dean's terrible joke. "Do you see a serial number, a brand, anything?"   
"No," Dean responded. "These might have been commissioned. They probably put their signature somewhere on the inside. Time for some investigating. We'll ask the owner, see what he knows." 

Sam shook his head in agreement. The brothers left the building, and Sam tried to ignore the feeling of the bear's eyes burning into his back.


End file.
